


Despite the Heights

by thedisasterwriter



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst and Feels, Comfort, Daddy Kink, F/M, Smut, Sugar Baby Daenerys, Sugar Daddy Jorah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:03:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedisasterwriter/pseuds/thedisasterwriter
Summary: The both of them have something the other needs.
Relationships: Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 20
Kudos: 92





	1. Chapter 1

Jorah sat, a little pit of anxiety settling in him as he waited on the couch, looking at his book but not really reading it, too far gone in his own thoughts to take in in the words written on the page. He glanced instead to his side, out the window. Past his own reflection the view it offered was to most, simply breathtaking, but it, as with most things for him, had steadily lost its charm over time.  
  
He owned the prestigious penthouse suite of a luxurious high-rise and the view at night, out over the smaller blocks and bustling streets below was nothing short of stunning. Watching the lights move, the tiny shuffling ant-like figures of people as they went about their lives, it made him feel as rich as, well, he was. But every day that passed he found less and less gleam to his life. His fulfilment draining, the view, as stunning as it was, just becoming a part of the background.  
  
He had everything he thought he wanted; safe finances, an amazing home, good friends, many social engagements, even a string of lovers should he desire such a thing; at varying price points. Some cost money, some cost more.  
  
Feeling disconnected and wondering how, if with everything, he could feel so empty he had reached out to some trusted friends speaking at length about just what the issue might be. He had been suggested that, maybe, what he wanted and needed was something he’d never even known he was missing from his life.  
  
Months had passed with Jorah searching for what would fill the hole in his life, trying to figure out what shape the missing piece was. Love, family, children, none of it was an exact fit and he had been beginning to give up hope on figuring out what it was. However, just as he had been on the verge of throwing in the towel to return to his stunningly enriched, yet utterly mundane life, following a particularly rowdy night in which he had spent an excess on alcohol and women –throwing away money without a second thought– he had finally found the term that had been alluding him. The missing piece of the puzzle.  
  
He had everything but a legacy. He was infertile. And while he had long ago come to terms and accepted that he would have no children of his own, not having someone to pass on his wealth and success to that he loved and cared for personally was making it all seem bittersweet. He, of course, had a will in place, in which his assets would be liquidated and his wealth spread out among charitable causes. But despite the goodness of it all, it didn’t make him feel as warm and fuzzy as he felt it should’ve.  
  
Jorah had moved forward in considering his options in acquiring a legacy, he had looked at adopting or fostering but hadn’t felt it right for him. He had, after all, so readily given up on the idea of being a father himself because he knew he would never have been a good parent, committing himself to fatherhood now with that knowledge in hand just seemed wrong. The child would, he knew, resent him as a distant parent, leaving its upbringing in other people's hands. Even the lure of a legacy didn’t change his mind on the prospect of raising anyone.  
  
After much soul searching, he had found a website that seemed to cater to his needs. It was an idea he hadn’t considered initially but one that; he suspected; might drop the very kind of girl he was after on his doorstep.  
  
The website offered a matching service to two types of people: those with money who wanted someone around and those who, in exchange for money and a home would provide their company.  
  
Sex wasn’t implicitly mentioned, likely because if it was, the website wouldn’t be allowed to operate. But it was an implied part of the arrangement that Jorah was tentative on.  
  
He discovered there were a surprising number of people out there who fit the ever-narrowing criteria of what he was interested in.  
  
He was looking for a young woman, someone coming from a particularly poor background who he could wow with what he had to offer, though, if there was to be any sex involved, she obviously had to suit Jorah's physical preferences.

He had spoken, over the course of a few months, to many potential girls, messaging them back and forth, turning away and dismissing many who seemed too desperate or just didn’t click with him.   
  
He had eventually settled his interests on a girl who hadn’t seemed desperate but had, in fact, seemed wary.   
  
She had first attracted Jorah's attention by visiting his profile multiple times but never, unlike everyone else, contacting him. Jorah had; out of curiosity; been forced to send the first message and the replies had been tentative, uncertain, brief, but Jorah had persisted.   
  
The girl, Daenerys, had been in foster care all her life and Jorah figured out she had not had an overly pleasant time in any home she had stayed at. Having just turned eighteen, her foster parents; no longer under the legal obligation of caring for her; had turned her out and turned their backs on her, forcing her to couch surf with an ever-dwindling score of friends.   
  
The girl had been searching for work and trying to find a place to stay, but bouncing from couch to couch made things difficult. She had no stability on which she could build her life. Jorah offered her that opportunity. With the income Jorah was offering and a city central location, Daenerys would be able to find work, gain employment and from there; Jorah told her; would be able to find an apartment of her own in only a few months.   
  
Daenerys had still been uncertain, unsure as to why Jorah would be so kind and giving, but Jorah had explained to her that it wasn’t kindness that motivated him. After all, he barely knew Daenerys. The money he would be paying her, while significant to the girl, was just change to him, and the company in the house wasn’t an inconvenience but was why he was on the site to begin with. 

He was simply lonely.   
  
They had talked at length and Daenerys had disclosed that she was overstaying her welcome where she was living. Her friend was growing impatient at the disruption Daenerys was causing her life, and she was upset that she was going to have to move, again, to another couch for another few weeks.   
  
It had been at that point that Jorah had suggested they move forward, they had met on this site both looking for something and Jorah felt that they were a good fit. Daenerys had still been uncertain but, with little option, she had agreed to come stay just for a weekend.   
  
A weekend would be all Jorah needed to persuade her to stay for longer. Then the few months following that would be, he hoped, enough time to persuade her to stay for good.   
  
He had given the girl's picture to the doorman who had smirked knowingly as he looked at it. Jorah often gave him such pictures of casual ‘visitors’, though he couldn’t have been further from the mark this time.

* * *

  
  
It was late in the evening as Daenerys bit her lip staring up at the building. It was intimidating in its size, she was certain in all her life she’d never been in such a tall building, or in such an expensive district for that matter.   
  
She glanced around, clutching her large bag and looking at the streets passer-bys. Everyone she saw was wearing an expensive suit or crisp professional dresses despite the late hour. With her white sleeveless shirt and skinny denim jeans, combined with the old backpack she looked as homeless as, well, she was.   
  
She stepped up to the entrance to the building, looking lost and anxious, unsure if she even had the right place. She glanced at the doorman, a handsome man by all accounts, maybe in his mid-thirties but with a distinctive white streak running through his otherwise dark hair. She bit her lip, feeling a panic rising in her chest as the doorman stepped towards her, she took a tentative step back expecting him to shoo the likes of her away from his domain, but he met her with a smile.   
  
“Miss Targaryen, right?” He asked, politely, his voice all kind and gentle.   
  
“Uhh…” She replied, she didn’t think she’d ever been addressed as a ‘Miss’ and his courteousness caught her off guard. A warm welcome was a far cry from the boot she had been expecting. “...Yes?”   
  
He nodded knowingly and beckoned gently with a hand. “Mister Mormont told me to expect you, please, I’ll escort you up to his suite.”   
  
Daenerys glanced around, and the doorman noted she looked like a gazelle sensing a lion, even the slightest spook would send her running. “Okay…” She said, running a hand tentatively through her almost-white hair.   
  
He nodded and gently guided her inside towards one of the elevators. Usually, he would offer to take the bags of any visitor, but he felt doing so would be all she needed to trigger her flight response.   
  
Inside the elevator, he pressed the very top button on the panel and Daenerys eyes widened. “He… lives at the very top?”   
  
The doorman looked at her and nodded, “Penthouse. You aren’t afraid of heights, I hope?”   
  
She shook her head but felt so incredibly out of her depth, it was difficult for her to really grasp the reality she had been invited into. Throughout her whole life even the smallest bit of money had meant a big thing, here, people had so much wealth it made money just a passing thought.   
  
She winced, her ears popping as the elevator climbed up through the building, decelerating as it reached the top. She drew in a deep, deep breath.   
  
Jorah was doing his best to keep relaxed in a deep comfortable chair by the window, his book in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other for his nerves. He had the lights on, but dimmed, a standing light focused on his book allowing him to read, or try to at least. He was expecting Daenerys but wasn’t waiting around for her, they’d agreed on a time for her to arrive, but if Daenerys arrived at all, Jorah would be impressed knowing how uncertain she was about the whole concept.   
  
He heard a distinctive click, the sound of his front door opening and closing, letting someone in. If it had been anyone other than Daenerys, the doorman would’ve buzzed up to clear it with Jorah first.    
  
Closing his book, Jorah rested it on his lap. “Set lights to full.” There was a pause and the intensity of the light bloomed, an almost clinical white light illuminating the room bathing the anxious-looking teen in light as she stood just inside the doorway, a small backpack held in one hand.   
  
They stared at each other for a few long moments, comparing each other to the pictures they’d swapped online. Jorah knew he probably looked a little older than he did in his profile pictures, a trick of angling the camera and filters, but Daenerys looked exactly the same. She was gorgeous even though she looked tired and worn out. It was obvious the girl had fallen on hard times but her natural beauty was simply breathtaking. She looked like a real angel.   
  
The girl seemed to be so afraid, Jorah thought as he sat up a little. She looked as if she had just realised she’d stepped into the lion's den.   
  
Jorah chose his first words carefully. “Hello, welcome home.”    
  
“Um… Hi… Thanks?” Daenerys said, her voice small. She looked exhausted as she lowered the backpack to the floor.   
  
There was an awkward pause between them, the two of them from such drastically different backgrounds, needing each other for completely different reasons and having virtually no common ground.   
  
“It’s late and you look like you’ve had a long day…” Jorah smiled gently. “How about I just show you your room and you can rest up, we can do the whole introduction thing tomorrow?”   
  
Daenerys let out a soft little sigh and nodded, a small albeit grateful smile gracing her full lips. “Please.”   
  
Jorah nodded and stood, sauntering slowly over to Daenerys and gently taking her backpack from her. He smiled at the girl as he eyed her over, they’d never talked about height and the teen girl was shorter than he expected. Daenerys was tiny, which he found himself liking.    
  
Daenerys blinked up at her new sugar daddy and thanked him for taking her bag before following behind him, looking the man over.   
  
Jorah had started to lose his hair and his wrinkled face showed just how much older than her he really was but he was in good shape. For a man who was clearly fifty something, he had a very nice body. The shirt he was wearing accentuated the stronger points of his figure, drawing attention to his broad shoulders and abs, which –for a middle aged man– were very impressive.   
  
Jorah showed Daenerys to her room, smiling as he stood in the door, waving with a hand for her to go ahead and enter. “Anything past this door is your business, your home. There's a cleaner that comes in Monday’s and Thursday’s, if you don't want them to do your room just let me know, okay?” He pointed off back the way they had come. “The kitchen is open plan to the living room just around the corner, if you get hungry there's plenty of snacks.”   
  
Daenerys brushed her long, thick hair behind one ear and nodded softly. “Thank you.”   
  
Jorah hovered for a moment, as if anxious to say something further, but he just nodded too, putting the girl's backpack down just through the threshold of the door and left her, glancing back as he did.   
  
Daenerys stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. Only then did she let herself relax, leaning with her back to the cool wood of the door, her eyes closed as she felt her exhaustion finally catch up and overwhelm her.   
  
Slowly, she slid down the door and put her head in her hands letting out a long, low wavering breath, she felt the tears against her hands, though they came in silence. With no friends and no family to rely on, she was in a strange house in the centre of a district she’d never visited, living with a man she’d never met in her life, where she would have to put out to remain; effectively selling her body, despite the heights; it was a new low.   
  
Meanwhile in the living room, Jorah sat back down in his chair. He picked up his book, audibly dimming the lights once more as he returned to reading, unaware of Daenerys' plight.


	2. Chapter 2

Daenerys' next conscious thoughts were of waking in an almost dark room, a strip of light along the floor of one wall the only light in the room. As she sat up, groaning as she rubbed her head, she realised that she had passed out on her new bed, fully dressed and without knowing how she had gotten from the door to her bed.  
  
The room she was in was like a blank slate, like a hotel room. The walls were white and bare save for one below the foot of her bed that had a TV mounted on it. There were no windows, a few small lights in the ceiling turned off, the only light currently coming from what she assumed was an oddly placed LED strip along the bottom of one of the long bare wall.   
  
While her body felt somewhat rested her mind was still exhausted, still dealing with her situation and feeling all the worse for having slept poorly and feeling dirty. Sniffing a little, she reached her backpack and took out her phone, which was long out of battery and too retrieved a charger. The cable was missing the protective plastic in a few places and the once white cable now a spotty beige, but it worked. She felt for a socket beside the bed and, finding one, plugged it in.   
  
She looked at the wall with the light at the bottom and reached out her hand, curious as it didn’t seem quite right. As her fingers traced across the surface it gave slightly and she felt fabric, it wasn’t a wall as she had thought but a floor to ceiling opaque curtain of sorts. She looked to the side and noticed a small buttoned panel, a soft blue light indicating its presence in the almost dark and she realised the light at the bottom was, in fact, the sun bleeding through.   
  
As her phone screen blipped on she checked the time, eight am. With the light from her phone, as dim as it was she could make out the room a little better. She looked at the bare walls, peering around looking for any doors and cupboards. She could see three doors, the room sparse of furniture save for her bed, the wardrobes seemingly built into the wall. There were four doors all told, the door she had come into her room from, a pair of smaller double doors and a final door on the opposite side of her room, on the interior of the building.   
  
The first set of double doors she opened, opened up onto a smaller room, the far wall boasting a floor to ceiling mirror and each side laid out with drawers, shelves and hangers. A genuine walk-in wardrobe.   
  
She shook her head in disbelief and closed it again, moving to the third door expecting a utility cupboard given that she was, after all, in the guest bedroom.   
  
She pushed open the door, the movement triggering a motion sensitive light that thrummed gently into life in the new room. She stared eyes wide, it wasn’t a utility cupboard at all but an en-suite, toilet, sink, separate bath and shower units, all marble, all hers.   
  
Leaving the door open she returned to her phone, resting it on the edge of her bed so it was still within reach of the socket but closer to the bathroom and she opened up the Spotify app. She logged into a friends account, a girl who she knew was never up before noon so wouldn’t be needing her account this early, and set the phone to randomly play a selection of her friend's tunes. It wasn’t exactly to her taste, but she never felt at home in true silence, music filling a painful void in her mind.   
  
She stepped back into the bathroom and disrobed, taking the first step towards making this place her own by throwing her dirty clothes into a pile on the tiled floor, feeling it warm under her feet. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, her hair was all wrong and she looked weird without her makeup, though she was still proud of her face and her body. Though no matter how good her body looked, she still felt worn down, she felt like every minute of every day was conspiring against her to tear her down, exhausting her mind and leaving her in a constant state of strain and anxiety.   
  
She cast her eyes away from herself, the music humming from her phone obscure and not doing anything to improve her mood, the tune in minor, though she couldn’t be bothered to go change it.   
  
She stepped towards the shower and spent a few long moments looking over the expensive looking unit, trying to figure out what was what on the white box. She reached out and started to twist dials, pushing buttons, figuring out how it functioned with simple trial and error. She was surprised at the power of the water once she learned out how to switch it on, it wasn’t just trickling down but firing out of the shower head with enough force to push it back with the recoil.   
  
As she twisted the dial adding heat to the downpouring of water she drew in a soft lungful of air, the tiles of the walls were, to her surprise, changing colour, cycling through the rainbow as they warmed. She marvelled for a few long moments at the heat reactive tiling. Such a small detail to take into account for a bathroom, but she couldn’t imagine how much it would’ve cost to install.   
  
Freeing her mind from the enrapturing beauty of the tiles she stepped inside the shower and let the heat punch down into her skin. She stood facing the force of the shower, her head tilted back allowing the heat to slam into her body, the power with which it was forced into her relaxing her muscles as good as any massage.   
  
She remained in the shower for a long time, washing her body, her long hair, lounging in the heat and generally just playing with the tiles. She splashed them with hot water, watching the pattern burst with bright colours then fade again, she pressed her palm to them, watching it warm to her touch then cool, her handprint shrinking until it vanished. Feeling a little playful she even pressed both her hands, breasts and her cheek to the wall.   
  
Leaning back she smirked a little, looking at the splay of warmth as if she had been pressed against the wall by a lover behind her. She shook her head a little, amused and clean, her fingertips visibly starting to wrinkle when she finally decided to get out.   
  
She turned off the shower but stood dripping with water for a few long moments, watching the tiles. She found herself frowning a little as the colours cycled backward through the spectrum, the array of colours shrinking down the wall, like a dying fire, the soft music which she could once again hear from her phone, no longer drowned out from the shower, didn’t help her, the song was a gentle but melancholy violin piece.   
  
She stepped from the shower and scooped a white fluffy towel up from a railing which had warmed the soft fabric. She wrapped it loosely around herself and stood for a moment, looking around the bathroom as a sweeping sense of that same melancholic feeling washed over her. Everything about this bathroom, while simple, flaunted wealth and status which she knew she would never herself have, allowing her to only ever experience it off of the backs of others success.   
  
Daenerys plodded slowly from the shower, glancing with annoyance towards the charging phone as the depressing song drew to a close. It really made her wonder what she was doing with her life. She was lost in a freezing sea, swimming from driftwood to driftwood, never feeling safe, never feeling comfortable, just remaining alive. Did it matter if the driftwood she was clinging to now was studded with jewels? It didn’t change the fact that she was just one slip up away from drowning.   
  
She let out a soft sigh and stepped to the other side of her bed, wiping her hand absently on the towel wrapped around her in the almost dark as she reached to scoop up her phone, checking the time and swiping onto the next random song, the sound of upbeat clapping, whistling, guitars and pianos beginning to roll out, filling the room. She watched as the clock on her phone rolled over from eight fifty-nine to nine am on the dot.   
  
There was a soft beeping that drew her attention as she put her phone back down, the panel on the side of the wall was flashing with an alarm, she took a step towards it but movement and light to her right made her jump and turn, her towel falling from her as it did, leaving her naked. The heavy curtain was moving.   
  
“~If you love somebody~” the lyrics spilled out from the speakers on her phone.   
  
She turned to face the lifting wall, looking down with wide eyes as a line of sunlight grew and crept across the floor, bathing her feet in its warmth.   
  
“~Better tell them while they’re here, ‘cause they just may run away from you…~”   
  
The line of light continued to crawl across her floor and glide up her body, she watched as the blinds lifted, she hadn’t looked the night before and hadn’t cared this morning, but it dawned on her that her either fourth wall to her bedroom was a floor to ceiling window, the light worked up her legs, reaching her thighs as more and more of her was revealed to the morning sun.   
  
“~You’ll never know quite when, well, then again it just depends on, how long of time is left for you…~”   
  
She stood like a doe caught in the headlights as the beam traced up her porcelain skin to her hips and waist.   
  
“~I’ve had the highest mountains, I’ve had the deepest rivers, you can have it all but life keeps moving~”   
  
The light traced up her torso and across her bare breasts, the warmth touching at her collarbone.   
  
“~I take it in but don’t look down…~”   
  
Her breath caught in her throat as the light traced across it, her eyes reflectively squinting even before the light hit her, she felt it trace across her jaw, across her lips, up her nose. The light hit her.   
  
“~’Cause I’m on top of the world, ‘ey~”   
  
The sun was bright as she took a step forward, pressing her hands to the glass, her breath still caught as she cast her gaze out over the city, her heart hammering as she looked down upon the world, her body nude, the drops of water on her skin glistening like tiny stars as they caught the light that warmed her body.   
  
The feeling was unreal, being so vulnerable, standing naked, baring everything before everyone, the world open to her where thousands and thousands could see her, but safe in the knowledge no one was looking, she could see the tiny specks so far below, each one a person going about their lives, to them too she was just a tiny speck, only high above.   
  
She stood there for so long, mouth open, as her phone played songs, her skin and hair drying in the warmth of the sun as she took it all in. Feeling pure, feeling elation, a sensation she held onto. 

* * *

Jorah hummed softly as he went about preparing breakfast for two. He often did that, having someone in his house in the morning wasn’t a rare occurrence, but they’d usually spent the night fucking like animals. He hadn’t seen Daenerys since directing her to her room, though he could hear the very faint sound of music and had picked up the distant hum of the shower.  
  
He made a hearty breakfast of bacon, sausage and eggs, to be served with toasted fresh bread and butter. He didn’t know how long it would be until Daenerys emerged from her room, but if need be, he could keep the meal warm in the oven on low.   
  
As she was plating up a tentative, but much better looking, Daenerys padded barefoot into the main living space onto which the kitchen joined seamlessly.   
  
Jorah looked up at her and smiled. He was wearing a white wife beater and a pair of plain, though designer, denim jeans. In contrast, Daenerys was wearing a simple black vest that peaked at girls nipples and cascaded down her flat stomach, a pair of shorts completing the basic homely look. 

“Good morning.” Jorah said, warmth in his voice as he noticed the girl staring hungrily at the plates of food. He found himself wondering how long it had been since Daenerys had eaten. “Hungry?” He said, placing the two plates down on the breakfast bar, sitting down and smiling warmly at the girl.  
  
Daenerys bit her lip a little, eying Jorah over. She was still unsure about him but; following her moment in the bedroom; for the time being at least with a new positive outlook, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.   
  
“You have no idea…" She said with a small smile as she moved to sit opposite the older man, pulling her plate towards her and starting to eat. “Mmm! This is delicious.” She complimented as she ate, looking over at Jorah, who had a smirk on his lips. 

He was attractive, Daenerys had to admit.  
  
“I’m glad you like it, I had the ingredients delivered this morning." Jorah said with a smile. The teen seemed a little different, it wasn’t just that she seemed rested but she just seemed renewed somehow. “It’s nice to finally meet you, by the way.”   
  
Daenerys blushed a little and swallowed her mouthful. “Mm, I wasn’t exactly talkative last night, was I?… Sorry.”   
  
“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Jorah smiled. "I hope you slept well?”   
  
Daenerys thought for a moment as she chewed, remember how she had spent the night splayed out on top of the bed fully dressed after sobbing leant against the door for a while. “I slept amazing, thank you. I was asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.” She smiled back.   
  
Jorah nodded, clearly pleased and enjoying the girl's politeness. “Good, good.”   
  
They ate in relative silence, more because of Daenerys' hunger as opposed to any awkwardness as the girl made every effort to wolf down her food, showing just how hungry she had been. 

The two glanced at each other, still measuring each other, drinking in every detail and trying to glean as much as they could from one another.  
  
“So…” Daenerys opened, ending the silence as she set aside her clean plate. Jorah's own only half empty. “I… Guess we should discuss, you know.”   
  
“The terms of our contract?” Jorah said a soft smile on his face.   
  
Daenerys nodded. She knew sex was a part of the bargain, but she didn’t know how to approach the subject.   
  
“Four thousand a month, as we agreed, I’ll make the first payment upfront and if you don’t want to do any of that sex stuff, we don’t have to.” Jorah said, waving a hand dismissively.   
  
Daenerys opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, her brow furrowing as she again parted her lips. “Uh…” She pursed her lips and stared at Jorah, bewildered.   
  
Jorah raised an eyebrow delicately. “Is there a problem?”   
  
“I…” Daenerys again hesitated. “Not… not a problem, no, it’s just… Well, I thought you, you know, wanted me for… that.”   
  
“Sex?” Jorah asked. “You are gorgeous, but you don’t know me. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don't want to.” He smiled some. “I want you to live here, be happy, be comfortable. And if something sparks between the two of us…” He shrugged.   
  
Daenerys thought for a few long moments, leaning her elbows on the counter, her hand tracing across her own neck. “But… What do you get out of this then? If you're not looking for sex?”   
  
Jorah smirked a little bit. “If I just wanted sex, I’d have just continued my old lifestyle. No, I don't just want sex. I want company, Daenerys. I want to live with someone, I want to come home and at least wonder whether someone else is home instead of just knowing it’s empty.”   
  
Daenerys' eyes narrowed a fraction. “Then… Why me? Why this? Why not just try dating?”   
  
Jorah considered just telling her, that, if he got her way, Daenerys would one day own all of this and see Jorah as the family she never had. But he held off, for now, deciding that would be too much too quickly, and also -he realised- a little weird. “Does it matter what my reasons are?”   
  
“I mean… kinda.” Daenerys noted.   
  
Jorah let out a little sigh. “Let's just say, dating wouldn’t have gotten me the kind of person I was interested in.”   
  
Daenerys smirked some. “Alright, ominous, but alright.”   
  
Jorah smirked too and shrugged secretively.   
  
Daenerys leaned forward a little and watched Jorah as he finished eating, then furrowed her brow and her mouth fell open in surprise.   
  
Jorah laughed. “There it is, I was waiting for that.”   
  
“Wait! No, wait, you said four thousand upfront? As in today?” Daenerys said, she had been so instantly occupied about the sex aspect of their contract, she had glossed over that small detail.   
  
“As in, three and a half is already in your PayPal and the other five hundred is in cash by the door.” Jorah said with a wry smile, enjoying the girl's reaction to her sudden wealth.   
  
Daenerys glanced towards the door and couldn’t even imagine that. Four thousand was like a lottery win to her. She paused, thinking what could she do with that much money? She could rent somewhere, that much would cover her for a few months at least, she could find her feet, start a life.   
  
She looked back towards Jorah, her voice edged with uncertainty. “What makes you think I won't just take it and leave?”   
  
Jorah shrugged again. “Honestly, I don’t know whether you will or not. But risking four thousand dollars is not even a risk for me.” He said, glancing around at the opulent wealth he displayed in every aspect of how he lived. “The way I see it, if you take the money and leave, that was how much it cost to find out you weren’t the right one.”   
  
Daenerys nodded a little in understanding. “I’m… Going to spend the day out, is that okay?”   
  
Jorah smiled and had to suppress the urge to bite his lip. Daenerys asking him permission to do something, made his heart flutter just a tiny bit. “Fine by me, sweetie.” He said with a soft, honeyed voice.   
  
Daenerys nodded and glanced at Jorah, biting her own lip. “Do you think… You could book me an appointment with a hairdresser?”   
  
Jorah smiled and nodded. “I will. I’ll text you your appointment times, okay?”   
  
Daenerys smiled too and moved to stand, a hand running through her hair, picturing what she was going to ask for. “Thanks, Jorah, you er… Have a good day, okay? I’ll see you tonight? We can chill?”   
  
Jorah's smile deepened. “I’d love that.”   
  
“Maybe get some takeout, watch some Netflix...” Daenerys nodded some and smiled warmly to Jorah, who couldn’t help but feel elated. 

Though the temptation to take the money and run was real, Daenerys had to take into consideration where she was and who she was with. While Jorah's motives were still obscured to her, his actions so far had been seemingly selfless and certainly considerate. And that was without mentioning the quality of the penthouse, which alone was worth staying for.  
  
Jorah nodded again. “I’ll see you tonight then.”   
  
Daenerys nodded one last time and almost considered going in for a hug, but thought better of it. As Jorah had said, if a spark was going to occur, it was going to occur naturally.   
  
She returned to her room, dressing in simple but clean clothes, planning on switching them out relatively early in the day. She picked up her phone and checked her PayPal, lo and behold, a three and a half thousand dollar deposit had been made, she issued a transfer from the account to her debit card and prepared to set out into the world.   
  
She glanced back towards Jorah and bit her lip before slipping from the penthouse, making her way down the elevator.   
  
This was her time for a second chance at life, she would buy new clothes, new makeup, her hair would be fixed back to how it should be and at the end, she would come back to Jorah.   
  
After a brief exchange of pleasantries with the white-streaked doorman, who seemed to always be on service, she stepped out into the world. The men and women going about their lives and work looking down at her for who she was and how she looked. She smirked and walked off into the city, they wouldn’t be looking at her like that in a few hours


End file.
